


Counselor to the Gods

by Sinister_Coffin



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/F, tumblr refugee, tumblr writing prompt, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 02:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16845166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinister_Coffin/pseuds/Sinister_Coffin
Summary: "You are the world’s most successful marriage counsellor. Each case ends with a 100% satisfactory rate for both sides. One day, a rather unusual couple enters your office. Through questioning you find out that the two people in front of you are in fact Zeus and Hera. And they won’t leave until you fix their mess."





	1. Chapter 1

“You two need a divorce.”  
  
As usual, Zeus’ fury was a sight to behold. It took all her years of experience as a counselor, and willpower she didn’t realize she’d had, to keep her composure. The conditions of her services had been clear, they couldn’t harm her, but it was small comfort when Zeus is hurling lighting bolts around an indestructible room.  
  
Hera, on the other hand, was also perfectly composed. Once Zeus’ rage had played out and he stood glaring at at the counselor from behind the couch, she spoke.  
  
“We came to you to fix our marriage. To salvage it.” She explained. “A divorce…”  
  
“I don’t fix marriages.” She countered. “Look closer at my testimonials. My help may have saved a few marriages, but what I do is help people fix toxic situations.”  
  
“Olympus must have a king and queen!” Zeus insisted.  
  
“And who made that rule?” She asked.  
  
Zeus didn’t catch Hera’s faint smirk, but the counselor did. Of course she’d known what her would recommendation would be. She was here because Zeus needed to think it was his idea. He went quiet at the question, the almost shocked, dawning realization that he had control here.  
  
“You did, naturally. You defeated the Titans, and claimed the right to rule. But Zeus, think on it, why did you do it? Who expected _you_ to rule? Why did you need a queen and why did the queen need to be Hera? And if you’re really honest with yourself, do you even _want_ to rule?”  
  
She wondered if it was the first time Zeus had ever taken a moment for real introspection. Most likely it was. Hera was perfectly neutral in her expression, but the light in her eyes told the counselor more. The soft bell timer next to her chair went off.  
  
“Well that’s all the time we have to today.” She said, closing her notebook. Zeus was still looking thoughtful. A stunned kind of thoughtful, but thoughtful nonetheless. “Talk to my secretary and he’ll schedule your next session.”  
  
Zeus tried to argue, and Hera made a good show of it as well, but they had agreed to follow certain rules, and this was one of them. She did have other clients, after all. It had been Hera who agreed second, when Zeus had demanded she see reason.  
  
And there were other sessions. Six months before they finally decided to divorce. The news shook the other pantheons. The news of Zeus’ abdication in favor of his brother Hades shook them more. Stable, serious Hades, and his wife Persephone. It was better for the pantheon, and with Persephone in the mix, it wouldn’t be boring.  
  
Zeus took to adventuring. Diving happily into his new, and old, roles as a god of the sky, thunder, storms, and lusty parties. Astronauts who venerated Zeus were almost sure to come home safe, and come home to the wildest parties.  
  
Hera, relieved of the almost obligatory jealousy Zeus had once elicited from her, became more focused than ever on her role. Suddenly there were breakthroughs in pre and post-natal medicine. Marriages became more stable than ever.  
  
Stable marriages mean poor business for a marriage counselor. She was glad her services were less necessary, but if things kept up like this, she would need a new career. The knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she answered it. Her secretary had left months ago, finally marrying his husband and moving to the country as they’d been dreaming of. She hand’t bothered to hire a replacement.  
  
Opening the door revealed, to her great shock, Hera. She looked different. The stony neutral expression was gone. She seemed softer. She had laugh lines. She was dressed causally, when the counselor had only ever seen her in business formal, with a shawl patterned in peacock feathers.  
  
She wanted to talk. Partly to thank her, and partly to apologize for essentially driving the counselor out of business. They talked of other things, mostly trivial, laughing at the latest antics of Zeus and his fellow thunder god, Thor. Most of the world never saw these things, but her encounter with the gods had left the counselor’s eyes more open than before.  
  
“There is another reason I wanted to talk to you.” Hera said finally, setting her teacup down. “There are other gods in need of a good counselor. Not just marriages but relationships that need help. You’ve seen the good that you can do with just one pair of clients.”  
  
The possibility excited her. She could help the world in ways undreamed of. “That sounds incredible!” She exclaimed. “But…how would it work? We can’t have the gods parading in and out of the building on a daily basis….”  
  
Hera smiled and took the counselor’s hand, looking into her eyes in a way that made the counselor shiver and blush. “Why don’t we discuss it over dinner?” 


	2. God Needs Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You receive a text from the number (666)-666-6666, saying “Hey, can we move brunch from Saturday to Sunday? God’s being pissy again”."

Hera glared at her phone. “That gods dam-”

She was stopped mid-curse as her girlfriend laid a single finger on her lips. The counselor smiled, “You agreed no more curses, even if you don’t mean them.”

Hera sighed and fired off a quick text back, agreeing to the rescheduling.

“I want to go beat his head in until he lets go of his…damnable delusions.” She complained.

“It’s not our job to challenge his delusion.” The counselor reminded her gently, snuggling closer to her love on the couch as they watched the sun rise. The view from Olympus Tower was truly spectacular. 

“He treats Lucifer so badly.” Hera added, not for the first time. Hera had a list of complaints, from His treatment of His sons to the bad behavior of His followers. Though always Hera had to admit the latter was not His fault. The cruelty of Mortals in the name of religion never failed to shame the Gods. But there was always plenty of emotional ammunition to choose from when His psychosis was battering at his children.

“Luci has his brother and an entire Host to help him. Not to mention he’s extremely resilient.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to be ok with it.” Hera huffed.

“Of course not.”

They settled into the silence and grandeur of the sunrise. The counselor letting her mind wander, disengaged from the usual analysis of the Gods her new position entailed. Instead, basking in the presence of Hera. Besides the joy of their growing love, there was a certain presence none of the gods could hide from a mortal, and the counselor loved to let Hera’s presence settle around her like a blanket.

The next day, she had an idea. And she made a call.

“Persephone, how much do you know about psychopharmacology?”


	3. One Heck of a Big Boi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re currently on a road trip driving to a place all the way across the country. You’ve been hearing some weird noises in your trunk ever since you stopped at an inn a day ago, but you’ve chalked it up to the car being it’s old crusty self. All of a sudden, one of your car’s tires pops, and you stop on the side of the road to change it. Upon opening the trunk, you discover three little dogs snoring. When you go to pick one of them up, however, you realize it’s actually one dog with three heads. You inspect the collar around the middle head, and it says,
> 
> Cerberus  
> One heck of a big boi   
> If found, please return to Underworld  
> (666)-666-6666

“Hera….” The counselor called to her girlfriend.

Hera came around the car, looking far more stylish than anyone who’d been driving for the six hours with no AC had any right to. Any mortal, at least. Her hair was in a slightly disheveled bun. She wore high-waist jean shorts, white sneakers, and a white tee. She’d bought her sunglasses at a gas station a thousand miles ago. The wide straw hat was a gift from the counselor, Hera had added the peacock feather. In the oppressive mid-afternoon heat of nowhere Nebraska, anyone would have wilted. The counselor was feeling a bit wilted at the thought of changing the tire, at least her own upbringing had her insisting on a full-size spare when they prepared for this. But Hera may as well have been on the runway. 

“Darling, is it really necessary that-” She stopped as soon as she saw the pup, who was now waking up. “Κέρβερος!” She exclaimed, and scooped him up excitedly. “What are you doing here you little rascal?” Cerberus, for his part, merely barked excitedly and licked her face, which got her laughing.

The counselor thought that Hera laughing might be the most beautiful sound in existence. 

In a little while, the excited pup, who looked like a scruffy terrier mix at the moment, was calmed and sitting in the shade at Hera’s feet as she sat in the open passenger door, watching the counselor change the tire.

“I have several questions.” The counselor said. “For instance, shouldn’t he be bigger?”

“He’s always been as big as he needed to be.” Hera explained, “He’s rather more a concept than a proper being. Rather like Νέμεσις.”

“I’ve met Nemesis. She wanted me to try and salvage a bad situation before she had to step in. She did not seem all that conceptual to me.” She grunted as she pulled the tire off. Hera watched.

Hera always watched her in these moments. A mortal, the counselor needed to actually work to stay fit, and Hera was prone to not-quite-staring. Actually staring wouldn’t suit a goddess of her stature. But she did watch.

“Well…she does have a certain independent potency. Still, she is always what she needs to be. Regardless, I suppose I should call Ἅιδης and inform him-”

“Nah-ah, you can’t.”

“Darling, with a mere shout I can call Mercury here.”

“Ah, but then you’d violate the Rules.” The counselor reminded her with a smirk, “You were the one who wanted this ‘mortal road trip’.”

“But…”

“But nothing.” The counselor hefted the spare tire onto the bolts and began wrenching down the nuts. “You have amends to make, and this is part of the quest. You chose this method. And if we are fated to be accompanied by Cerberus, then that is how it will be.”

Hera pouted. It was truly a divine sight to behold, and encouraging. Not too long ago she might have been enraged. A great many parts of her had relaxed since she had divorced Zeus. 

Of course, Zeus had his own, numerous, sins to atone for. And a quest to undertake in his own time.

The counselor tightened the last bolt and stood, stepping over the napping Cerberus to stand over her divinely pouting lover. She cupped Hera’s chin, tilting her head up to stare into her eyes.

“As soon as we get into cell range, I’ll text Hades. Is that acceptable?”

“Oh…very well.” Here said, just a little breathlessly. The counselor didn’t often take charge between the two of them, but Hera seemed to love it when she did.

“Good. And if you stick to the speed limit, tonight I’ll pay homage in that way you like.”

Hera bit her lip before taking a deep breath. “I’d like that.” She scrambled into the drivers seat hurriedly and started the car. “Darling please hurry and pack up the tools. If I must keep to these silly mortal restrictions after a promise like that, the least you could do is move quickly. I’m not used to needing….patience.”

The counselor smiled as she packed up the gear, tossed the flat tire into the trunk, and put Cerberus into the back seat with their luggage. Testing Hera’s patience might have been dangerous for any other mortal. But doing so was always worth it.


	4. Inevitability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many mortals have wished Hera would get what she "deserves"?

She sat in the back corner of the cozy little pub waiting for Hera to finish her little errand. The road trip was becoming a global tour. A somewhat aimless one at that. Not that she minded. It felt like a much needed vacation. At least for her.

Hera, on the other hand, was restless. The ancient myths and legends of her abuses of mortals were exaggerated in many ways, but the truth was her intense jealousy had been expressed in often terrible ways, with Hercules, Medea, and Medusa, being the most famous of her targets. The counselor wondered if a god could earn redemption.

“Hello counselor.”

She recognized the voice instantly. Although it was different than the last time. And when she turned so was the form. She turned to see olive skin, dark eyes, a mass of black hair in loose ringlets. There were Tattoos over muscular arms that she instantly knew the meaning off, all of them the same meaning in different forms. Biker leathers and boots, combined with chains, spikes, finished off the look.

“Nemesis.” The counselor. She didn’t bother trying to hide the tension in her voice. You can’t hide anything from the very embodiment of Retribution. “Are your girlfriends around?”

“Liberty and Justice don’t come along on business.” Her voice carried a certain confidence in it. Confidence born of inevitability. Not the inevitability of death, that Hades spoke with. Rather the inexorable setting of the sun, or the rising moon. The certainty of gravity.

“Ah.”

“Where is she?”

“You already know.”

“It’s polite to ask. She’ll be returning here soon.”

“Will….will she find what she seeks?” The counselors voice carried a tremor as she fought to keep her composure. No easy task in the presence of Nemesis on business. The patrons around them noticed nothing.

“I only deliver what is coming. How she handles it is up to her. I have already visited Zeus, and he will see you before his ordeal is ended. What he has earned will not be pleasant.”

“But Hera…”

“Her case is complex, and what she has earned is as well. But…simple in some ways too. You’ll see. Know that you will not be harmed.”

“I’m not worried for myself.”

Nemesis smiled at her, and for a moment the pressure faded. “Ah. She comes in three…two…one…”

“You leave her alone.” Hera hissed from behind Nemesis.

Nemesis stood. Had she been that tall from the beginning? And seemed to tower over Hera, who remained unbowed in her building fury. 

“I am for you, oh daughter of Rhea.” Her voice had changed. Time seemed to freeze in every syllable. Every intonation resounded with divine Certainty.

Hera seemed to waver for a moment but stood still, awaiting Retribution.

“Your ordeal approaches. Prepare.” And she was gone.

The counselor felt the pressure suddenly vanish and it was like taking a hit of pure oxygen. Then Hera was at her side, trying to hug and check her for injury at the same time.

“Shhh…stop, stop my love.” The counselor insisted, trying to calm her. “I’m fine. Worry more about yourself.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” Hera said, voice tinged with barely restrained panic. “As soon as I saw her and you. She was here with purpose. I could feel it. And then all I could think about was what might happen…”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Lets go.”

The counselor guided Hera out of the bar and back to their hotel, paying their tab on the way. Al the way back to the room she wondered at Hera’s reaction. It was real fear. She had wondered if the Olympians had even been capable of it but there it was. No wonder Hera was so shaken. She didn’t get a chance to ponder further, however. When they reached their room, Hera proved very eager to put the moment behind her, at least for a little while, with pleasant distractions.


	5. Hell Needs Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are in hell, about to be tortured by the devil himself when Satan suddenly sneezes. “Bless you,” you say automatically. Write his response. "

“Hah! Can’t torture her now!”  
  
“Dad…ugh, I was never going to torture- You know what? Yep, I’m sure foiled now. Can’t torture Hera’s girlfriend cuz she blessed me.” Lucifer, AKA “Satan” rolled his eyes.  
  
“Damned right you’re foiled.” Luci’s Father said, striding out to survey His son’s domain.  
  
The counselor smiled as His back before turning back to Lucifer. “Sorry, I was raised Catholic, unfortunately. I didn’t mean to set him off.”  
  
Lucifer waved the apology off. “It’s nothing. Honestly he’s much calmer thanks to you.”  
  
“Thank his therapist.” The counselor corrected, “It’s his treatment plan. I only had the hunch.”  
  
“A hunch nobody else had.” Jesus pointed out, setting a tray of food on the coffee table. He was dressed simply, a blue robe over his broad, muscular frame. He smiled a bright smile from within his dark beard and long, curly hair. “That much, at least, you should take credit for.”  
  
The counselor nodded graciously, and looked out over Lucifer’s realm. Hell was indeed a place of fire. But not of suffering. Or rather, not suffering in the sense Catholics and their offshoot churches tended to understand. It was also the place that Hera would come to find her, though to her, it would seem more like Tartarus.   
  
It was also exquisitely beautiful. There was fire, true, and there were incredible creatures, flora and fauna that defied mundane ideas of plant and animal life. An alien realm where souls came for atonement.   
  
_Hera had been loath to leave her alone, but she also could not sit idly by and wait for retribution. So she had begged the counselor to ensconce herself in Olympus Tower for a week while she attempted to prepare._  
  
 _On the second day, there had been a knock at the door. The counselor answered without thinking and let out a startled cry when she saw who it was._  
  
 _“Medea!” She stepped back from the sorceress. Arguably the greatest witch in all history. There was no mistaking her, something about her exposure to the many divine entities recently had given the counselor instinctive knowledge other mortals could only scratch the surface of._  
  
 _“Calm yourself, counselor.” Medea’s eyes were hard, and held within them a spark of arcane power that might well rival a god. “I am not for you.”_  
  
 _The phrasing that Nemesis had used, denying vengeful intent, did not reassure the counselor emotionally, but she suddenly felt no threat from the witch._  
  
 _“How can you be here?” She asked._  
  
 _Medea smiled, and though it was cold it was a prideful smile as well. “Secrets tricks and spells, great Sage. Not so different from your methods, but applied to…Reality.”_  
  
 _“Why are you here?”_  
  
 _“In service of the Rebuke of Hera. If she is to purify herself of her crimes, her path must not be easy. Among other things, she must suffer as we suffered. To that end, it’s off to Tartarus with you.”_  
  
The counselor’s mind stopped drifting at the sound of laughter. The Morning Star was recounting some anecdote, it was about meeting His’ therapist. The counselor smiled at the joke he had made. She knew him well from their school days. A Jewish man who was as much a theological scholar, and part-time comedian, as he was a brilliant therapist. He had, of course, applauded her good sense. Only one of the Chosen People could ever hope to treat Him.  
  
She wondered where Hera was now….


	6. The Divine Cleanse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "An eternity of suffering sounds bad, but given enough time, people start to get used to it. Hell is running out of ideas on how to effectively torture the souls that have been there for centuries. Then they hire you. "

The counselor sighed.  
  
“Lucifer…I thought you were more creative than this.”  
  
Luci shrugged. “I’m not mortal. None of us have ever been mortal. And Jesus refuses to help. I got one idea out of him and that was really just from the Romans.”  
  
The counselor looked out over the fields of crucifixions to the “west”. Here was the region of Hell were souls were actually tortured. And everyone was bored. Most of all, the damned themselves were bored beyond comprehension. It was it’s own kind of hell, to be sure, but that dullness belonged in Purgatory.  
  
“Hekate has it easy.” Lucifer complained.  
  
The new ruler of the Underworld did have an easier time of things. The departed souls of that realm didn’t need torturing. Of course all the “realms” were one realm. Each one a concept or an idea drawn from Humanity, the function of the afterlives still eluded the counselor, but she was growing in understanding with each day.  
  
Suddenly, there was a hollow booming sound in the distance. In an instant, she was standing next to Hekate in the Underworld. The throne room of the underworld was lit by ghostly torches. It was pleasantly warm, even the stones beneath her bare feet seemed to radiate a comforting warmth. It made sense, souls came to this realm to rest, not for suffering, boredom, or bliss. 

On the other side of the throne there was Nemesis. No…the counselor understood her better now, she was _Νέμεσις_. The name contained the full meaning of her existence and more. Tonight…she seemed an accountant, or a records-keeper. She held tablet and stylus at the ready, prepared to records what was about to happen.  
  
In the middle of the room was Medea, modern garb failing to hide the vast magical power she had wielded for ages as the primary priestess of her lady, Hekate. The counselor wondered when she had learned to see that power.  
  
In the distance, there was a pounding at the gates.  
  
“She’s arrived.” Nemesis commented.

There was the sound of the gates shattering under colossal blows and, moments later, Hera strode into the court.  
  
She looked worn, tired, and the Counselor realized, she looked mortal. She seemed to be Hera as the counselor had always known her, and in the same instant, Hera as a woman of forty years, perhaps more, aged by a hard life and scarred by adventure. Had she lived an entire lifetime in the few weeks since Medea had spirited the counselor away? Such things were possible for the gods, and probably for Medea too.  
  
Hera was flanked by others, Heroes whose names the counselor did not know. That one, a witch by their stance and garb. Another, a modern soldier, if her weapons were any indication. The counselor wondered who they were, hoped Hera would tell her about them. Behind them, _Κέρβερος._ Now he seemed as large as a horse, thick wiry fur armored his body and three sets of green glowing eyes surveyed his home.  
  
Hera staggered to the center of the room and fell to her knees. The counselor started to move but Hekate’s hand on her shoulder held her as surely as an iron clamp.  
  
“Witness this.” Nemesis said.  
  
Medea approached the kneeling Hera and stood over her. Hera looked up, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, though the counselor and all gathered could hear her clearly. “I didn’t understand.”  
  
Medea’s backhanded slap rang through the court, snapping Hera’s head to the side. “And now you do?” She hissed, before ripping her clothes, baring her chest to the Goddess turned Mortal. “Enough to draw out that poisoned arrow you sent to me when it served your purposes?”  
  
Hera struggled to regain her feet, looking Medea in the eyes as she did. “Yes.”  
  
The counselor gaspsed in shock as suddenly Hera thrust her hand into Medea’s bared chest. She reached deeper than should have been possible, and the counselor realized it wasn’t Medea’s body she had thrust her hand into. She seemed to grasp, something, and pulled.  
  
Medea shrieked in agony as Hera pulled. Minutes passed and she shrieked as Hera strained. Her cry lasted far longer than should have been possible, until finally, Hera ripped her arm from Medea’s chest. With it, came a black, tar-like, cancerous mass which Hera hurled into the bonfire at the center of the room. For a moment as it burned, the Counselor could see an arrow embedded in the mass.  
  
Medea gasped as the pain left her. Holding on to Hera now for balance as she recovered. In moments she was standing tall again, making no move to cover herself. She turned to Hekate, her patron. “Mistress, I’m free of him. If you will grant me the power, I will free her as well.”  
  
Hekate made a slight motion of her hand and suddenly Medea seemed to glow with power, though no light emanated from her. She turned to Hera, ripping her cloths as she had torn her own, and thrust her hand into Hera’s chest.   
  
The counselor cried out in horror. There was blood, ripped flesh, Medea’s hand in her love’s chest up to her shoulder. Hera made no sound until Medea grabbed something. The instant her own shriek of pain started, the counselor felt blackness wash over her….  
  
When she opened her eyes, Hera held her close. Out of the corner of her eye, the counselor saw a huge black mass filled with all manner of artifacts, burning in the central fire. It would take some time to burn, it seemed.  
  
“I’m free, my love.” Hera whispered in her ear. “Free of him.”  
  
And the counselor realized what had happened. Whatever life Hera had lived as a mortal, it had been so that she would recognize the toxic influences she had wrought. She had reached into Medea and freed her of Jason. In turn, doing so had allowed Medea to free Hera of Zeus. The counselor smiled, the gods and their metaphorical reality had a certain logic to it. Cutting oneself off from a toxic relationship, especially an old and deep one, could be an excruciating experience.   
  
Hera helped her to her feet, and the counselor saw she was back to her usual self. No more the mortal, the goddess stood with her, renewed and now unburdened. Nearby was Medea, and to the counselors eyes she seemed similarly unburdened, though there was a long scar on her chest where her damaged clothes exposed her. Another literal manifestation. She thought there mus be a similar scar on Hera’s chest, but her pride dictated she not reveal it. At least, not here.  
  
The Heroes seemed to have gone while the counselor was unconscious. She had no doubt their legends would reach her ears eventually.   
  
Covering herself with a shawl provided by Hekate, Medea approached. “You do understand. And all it took was half the lifespan of a mortal.” She smirked.  
  
Hera smirked in return, “I’m a fast learner.”  
  
“I almost didn’t believe it when I heard my daughters had joined your quest.” Medea’s eyes betrayed more happiness than her expression. Pride too, in her daughters’ actions.  
  
“I couldn’t have asked for better companions.”  
  
The pair stood in silence for a moment, then Hera spoke. “Thank you.”  
  
“Thank you.” Medea replied, “I think, when I am ready, I will burn an offering at one of your shrines. I know your favorites.”  
  
Hera adopted a faux haughty tone, “If the goddess is pleased she will bless your union.” She grinned, “And perhaps she will send a few options your way. In time. You can’t know if you are ready if you don’t try once in a while.”  
  
Medea laughed in a way the counselor thought she had probably not laughed in an age or more, and left them.  
  
Hera turned back to her, “I understand so much more than I did. Things I could not have understood as I was.”  
  
The counselor wrapped her arms around the goddess. “And what will you do with this newfound understanding?”  
  
“I’ll do…better than I did.” Hera said slowly. “And I have more amends to make than just Medea’s grievance. I set some right on my quest but there are others. I’ll need your help.”  
  
“Of course. Now, lets go home.”


End file.
